


Detox Just To Retox

by InfinityOnAri



Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: Angst, F/M, From under the cork tree era, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Pre-Hiatus (Fall Out Boy), So much angst, fall out boy obviously, take this to your grave era, teen patrick tho
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-13
Updated: 2017-08-06
Packaged: 2018-11-13 18:49:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11191197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InfinityOnAri/pseuds/InfinityOnAri
Summary: It had been his fifteenth drink that evening.He knew somewhere inside of him that this was wrong, that he couldn't solve all his problems at the bottom of the bottles, but it damn well made him feel better.Slowly he popped the cap off and took a sip, grimacing at the taste.He despised how it tasted, yet he drank anyway, refusing to stop regardless of how gross it was.It made him feel better and that was all that mattered.





	1. Of All The Gin Joints In All The World

**Author's Note:**

He loved her.  
She loved him.  
What could have possibly went wrong?  
It was like his world had faded,  
Ended when she was gone.

He loved her, he fucking loved her. She was his world. His purpose.

He slumped further into the stool at the bar counter. Waving a green bill in between his fingers impatiently. 

How did he end up like this?  
He had her and she was gone, but why was he here?

The bartender accepted the bill, sliding another bottle down the counter towards the man. 

It had been his fifteenth drink that evening.

He knew somewhere inside of him that this was wrong, that he couldn't solve all his problems at the bottom of the bottles, but it damn well made him feel better.

Slowly he popped the cap off and took a sip, grimacing at the taste.  
He despised how it tasted, yet he drank anyway, refusing to stop regardless of how gross it was.  
It made him feel better and that was all that mattered. 

He felt an unpleasant buzzing from his pocket.  
Groaning, he reached a hand into his jean pocket and pulled out his uncontrollably buzzing cellphone. 

Seven unread text messages and four missed calls.

Once his phone stopped buzzing, he clicked it off and placed it face down on the counter.  
At least until the familiar ringtone played. Sighing, he picked up his phone and looked at the caller ID.  
It was just Pete. He didn't want to talk to Pete.  
Knowing that he'd keep calling, he caved in and answered the phone. “Yes, hello?” He spoke drunkenly.  
“Jesus, Patrick. Are you drunk?” He heard Pete say.  
“No. Maybe. I don't know. What do you want?”  
“Where are you? I'm coming to get you.” He stated.  
Sighing in the phone, Patrick responded, “go away Pete. I'm a grown man I can get home myself.” He groaned.  
“You're only 19 Patrick. You're not that much of an adult. I'm coming to get you. Where are you?”  
Without realizing, Patrick gave Pete the address of the bar and within 15 minutes Pete had shown up to collect his drunker than drunk friend. 

She was everything to him. She had invaded his dreams one too many times and it filled his head with pain.  
He loved that woman with his whole heart.

Patrick felt his entire body shake for a brief moment, snapping him back, for the most part, to reality.  
“Patrick man. Let's get out of here.” Pete said, earning a drunk nod from Patrick.  
Pete wrapped Patrick's arm around his neck to help him walk towards Pete’s not so brand new car that he received from his father as a gift for his 21st birthday last month.  
He opened the passenger side door and helped Patrick climb into the car.

Patrick stared blankly out the window.  
What time is it? It's already dark and it looks like the sun might be rising soon.  
Frowning he glanced over at Pete, “what t-” he began, “4:30 am. It's 4:30 am, Patrick.” He said, disappointment engulfing his voice. 

After a silent drive back to their shared apartment with their two roommates, Andy and Joe, Patrick slipped into his room quietly, not wanting to disturb the other’s sleep, and sunk into his bed. 

The blonde had woke up just after noon, a booming headache most likely the cause. He took a glance at his phone, noticing a text message that he had received some time during his slumber. Who would text him besides his band mates? It seemed awfully strange, at least it did for the moment.  
Opening the text, he read the words over and over in his head, baffled at the contents.

“It's been a while hasn't it, Patrick? I've been thinking. Maybe we could get together sometime and catch up?”

A strange text from his ex girlfriend, and a shitty hangover. Was the text even real or was he still dreaming?  
Why would she text him again after she left him? What did she leave him for again? He couldn't even remember, it had been so long. 

He set his phone down on the floor and rolled over, forcing himself to return to his sleep to block the possibility that maybe, just maybe, Briana had texted him for the first time in 3 and a half years. 

He couldn't even think straight. Who does she think she is trying to make up with him after breaking his fragile heart? 

He loved her, she was his world, his purpose. Now she's just another line in a song.


	2. My Heart Is The Worst Kind Of Weapon

He rolled back over to face his phone once again, the bright light nearly blinding him. 

Why did she text him? Why would she do that to him?  
It physically pains him to read her message.  
She had said she was done with him, that she never wanted to see him again.  
Why did she text him?  
It doesn't make any sense to him.

'Should I text her back? Or just ignore her? '

His mind travelled to several different places, like the day they first met. His heart began to ache.

*

He had been walking through the aisles at the bookstore he worked at, arranging each book in their proper order. Smiling in content at the finished product.  
Turning to walk back through the aisle, he collided head first into something - someone - or at least he thought. Falling backwards, he rubbed the side of his head, his hair getting ruined in the process. 

He looked in front of him, locking eyes onto the most beautiful blue eyes he had ever seen in his life. “I um, I'm so sorry- I-I didn't see you there.” He stuttered awkwardly, scrambling to his feet and offering a hand.  
“Oh, um, it's okay.” The girl responded, placing her delicate hand in his as he pulled her up to her feet gently.  
“I've never see you around here. Did you just move here?” He asked, still holding her hand gently in his own.  
“I um, yeah I did. I just wanted to get a book.” She mumbled to herself. 

It wasn't very often that he had seen new residents in Glenview, and the fact that this beautiful new girl had just moved here made his heart skip a beat entirely. 

“Do you think you can help me?” She asked carefully, almost unsure if she should trust the man.  
He blinked a few times, registering the request in his mind before flashing a small smile towards the girl. “Yes, yes of course. What book are you looking for today miss?”  
She tapped her chin gently with her index finger twice before recalling the title of the book.  
“The Lord Of The Rings?” He looked at the girl from head to toe, receiving an odd look. “I believe we have that.” He nodded to himself.  
The girl with the icy blue eyes smiled faintly at him as he ushered her over to the Fantasy section of the library.  
Looking carefully through all the novels that had been perfectly alphabetized (to make his life so much simpler) from A to Z. He wanted to make a good impression for his customers, and gain more approval from his boss.  
“Ah ha! I found it!” He exclaimed excitedly, pulling the book off the shelf.  
“Oh thank you so much! Er-” she stopped to read his name tag. “Patrick. Thank you Patrick.” She smiled kindly. 

“You're welcome, miss-”  
“Briana.”  
“You're very welcome, Briana.”

*  
All the memories flowed back through his mind, he still loved her. At least he thought he did.

It was just his mind playing tricks on him, right? He's over her, right? He didn't know anymore. He loved her, but maybe he didn't.

She's got him all fucked up on love and he didn't know what to do to get over it.

He placed the phone back on the nightstand before finally rolling his ass out of bed.  
“What time is it?” He mumbled, taking a quick glance at his clock on his nightstand. “4 in the afternoon? Gosh I must have been asleep for hours.” He grumbled and turned to leave his room.

'What was I doing last night? I can't remember.'

He sighed and opened his wallet, his eyes nearly popping out of their sockets. “What happened to my money? I’m broke, what the hell?” He panicked, most definitely not remembering a single thing from last night. 

“Pete! Did you take my money?” He called out to his friend.  
Pete called back, “No, you dumb shit. You spent it all.”  
Patrick, now more confused than ever, looked down at his clothes, taking note that he had been wearing the same clothes as before he went out last night, but where did he go out to? His mind had been playing the same old tricks on him and this was the game he wasn’t having any fun playing. 

“What did I spend it on?”  
“Your fucking alcoholic problem. You were feeding into it man.” 

When did he become an alcoholic? He just didn’t know, his mind wasn’t functioning correctly as his brain pounded harshly against his skull. He had been so out of it he didn’t take into account his hangover, his blaring hangover, and his mind that seemed so far out of reach that he couldn’t seem to grasp hold onto it long enough. What happened to him? Why was he like this?

He had went and gotten drunk, that was completely unlike him. Why did he do it? He couldn’t remember.

“I, what, I have an alcoholic problem?” He spoke, hoping the certain brunette wouldn’t respond back to him, yet, he had been greeted with disappointment once again.

“You're an alcoholic man.” That's not possible.

“What, when did that happen?” He couldn't remember.

“As soon as you could get your ass into a bar that's when.” Pete scolded, “Jesus, Patrick. Is it still about Briana? She's gone Patrick. She left you. Just suck it up and move on like a man.”

Patrick shook his head, trying to shake the idea out of his mind.  
He wasn't an alcoholic, right? Pete was just messing with him to cover up the fact that he took his money. 

“Don't fuck with me man. I know you took my money.”

Pete sighed heavily, “I'm telling you Trick, you wasted your money drinking. I brought you home at 4:30 this morning. Just check your text messages.”

Obliging, Patrick picked up his phone and looked at the text messages, there had been 8 texts, 7 from Pete and the other from Briana. 

“I was that drunk? And I was there for hours?” He placed his hand on his forehead, falling onto his bed. Pete stood in the doorway, watching his friend recollect his memory.

Reading over the text he had just glossed over, it had finally clicked.  
Briana, his ex from three and a half years ago, had texted him. Why? What was the reason for that? He didn't know what to do so he thought of the next logical solution, for him anyway.  
“She texted me, Pete. Bri texted me.” 

Pete could help him. Right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter two, yay.  
> I should have pointed out in the first chapter, but I realize that the legal age of drinking in the states is 21 and not 18, but I'm from Canada, and the drinking age is different here.  
> So I guess in the story the legal age is 18? Oh well,  
> Enjoy the chapter :)


	3. I've Got Troubled Thoughts

Patrick had spent two days trying to decipher the message.

Why would she text him? 

He stared at the message that lingered deep inside his brain.

She still had his phone number. Why did she still have his phone number? She broke up with him, didn't she? Why did she keep it.

Shrugging it off, he slid his phone into his jean pocket and walked out of the shared apartment. 

“Yo, Trick. Are you ready to go to the studio today?” Joe had asked. 

“I, um. Yeah, I guess.” He had forgotten that was today. His mind had been so busy with the unknown text from his ex girlfriend that he nearly forgot all his plans that he made with his band. 

“Patrick? Man is something bothering you?”   
He was worried, why was he worried? He shook his head and flashed a quick, obviously fake smile at his friend.   
“No, I'm alright. We should head out before we miss it.”   
Nodding, Joe followed behind his friend.

Patrick didn't want to worry his band mates, what was going on wasn't their problem, just his. Besides, maybe music would clear his mind. At least he fucking hoped so.

*

“Do you like music?”

“Yeah I do. Do you?”

“Yup! I plan on being in a band one day. Playing music is my passion.”

The girl smiled softly, “Is that why you're here working in a bookstore?” The soft smile growing into a small grin. 

He placed his right hand over his heart and gripped tightly, pretending to be offended, “that hurts.” He said as he laughed. 

He had only known this girl for what seem like years, but was only two weeks. 

“Hey, Bri.”

“Yes?” Her head perked up at the call of her name.

“Would you um, like to go on a date with me? Sometime. Um, you can say no if you want… I was just wondering…” he asked nervously. He had never asked out a girl before, he didn't know what to say.   
He waited a while, looking across her face for a reaction. Just as he was about to say to forget he asked, he had heard a reply.

“Yes.”

And his heart had been sent into a spiral of emotions. He was happy, he was scared.  
Butterflies swarmed the inside of his stomach.

“I would love to go out with you.” She smiled.

*

“You want apologies, girl, you might hold your breath until your breathing stops forever, forever. The only thing you'll get is this curse on your lips, I hope they taste of me forever.” He sang, glancing over at Pete for a reaction.   
“You're doing good, Trick.” The bass player nodded his head.

He had still been in awe at how great a singer Patrick had been. Every time he had heard his voice, it made him more hopeful for their success.

Patrick, however, didn't care much for success as he cared for his music. He wanted their fans to feel like they had someone there for them, someone who understood them.  
Success was the last thing Patrick had thought about.

“Patrick, your vocals are amazing!” Andy had said. He didn't usually praise Patrick, nobody did. They always praised Pete, though. Everybody did. But he couldn't blame them, Pete was an amazing bassist, much better than Patrick was a singer.

“Yeah, man.” Joe added, “You get better every time you sing.”

Shaking his head and smiling nervously, Patrick’s eyes fell to the floor, “Can we keep playing?” He mumbled in embarrassment.

Pete nodded, not before making a suggestion, “how about we play Grand Theft Autumn? We haven't recorded that yet.”

Taking Pete's suggestion, the band mates decided to play Grand Theft Autumn.

Exhaling quietly, Patrick stared at the microphone in front of him.  
“Ready, Trick?” Pete asked, a hint of concern in his voice.   
“I um. Yeah. I'm ready.” He nodded,

He couldn't do it.  
Why couldn't he do it?  
What was wrong with him?  
He didn't know,  
He didn't want to know.

“-Rick!”

“Patrick!”

He had felt someone shaking him, hands gripped tightly on his shoulders.

“I, uh… what- um.” He was confused. What happened?

“Hello? Patrick! We have songs to record!” He heard Joe,

“Patrick are you okay?” Andy too.

He blinked at least twice before taking a look around the room, where was he?

“Where-”

“Patrick, c’mon man.” Pete.

“Oh!”

His memory came back to him.  
Why did it go away?

“Sorry, guys. Let's play now.” He chuckles nervously as he scratched the back of his head. 

Pete frowned to himself, concerned by his friend’s actions.

“Where is your boy tonight? I hope he is a gentleman. Maybe he won't find out what I know, you were the last good thing about this part of town.” Patrick sang softly,

The way his voice vibrated with the beat of the song always managed to surprise Pete. He knew he was good, but he always forgot just how good he really was.

 

The session had finally come to an end. Patrick had been eagerly awaiting for the final second of recording so that he could go home and relax. Until,

“To celebrate our first 3 recorded songs, how about we all go out for a drink? It's on me.” Joe suggested. Patrick's head had perked up at the mention of drinks.

Was he really an alcoholic? He didn't care, he just wanted to drink. 

The three boys nodded their heads, seemingly have given the idea a thought. 

And here he was once again. Back in the same rut as before.

His head dropped down onto the counter, his forehead possibly gaining a bruise. 

Without even knowing it himself, several bottles had began to pile up in front of him. He had drank every single bottle placed even a centimetre away from him.

“Patrick, man. We're gonna head home. Are you coming too?” He heard a voice, he couldn't tell who it was. Instead, he waved his hand. He didn't really care. 

He had remained seated on the bar stool, his face glued to the counter. 

Why was he here? He didn't have money to be here. But he stayed. The thought of leaving never crossing his mind.

The girl with the familiar icy blue eyes lurked in his mind. 

*

He paced back and forth around his room. He had gotten drunk again last night. Pete hadn't shared any advice with him about what to do.   
He frowned, leaving his solitude and made his way to the kitchen.   
Grabbing a bag of chips out of the cupboard, he sighed.

Stress eating.

“Patrick, you've been out of it for a while.”

“What am I gonna do, Pete?”

“I don't know Patrick. What do you expect me to say? Stop eating? Text her back? This is your problem. Not mine.” 

He sighed. He should have saw this coming. Pete was never really useful in situations like these unless he was the centre of attention. 

“Gee, thanks Pete.” He rolled his eyes, brushing past his best friend.

He wasn't any help, why would he be? Why did he think that he would help?

He sighed to himself.

“What am I going to do?” He grumbled, shoving his hands in his hoodie pockets as he walked out of the shared apartment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still trying to figure out these note things.  
> But thanks for reading :)


	4. I'm Not Broken-Hearted

The storm had started as if it was on cue. Like a dark rain cloud had loomed over his head whenever he had escaped the hell he called home.  
Drops of rain trickling down his expressionless face as he walked, he didn't know where to go.

Without a single bill, he couldn't go drinking. He had nothing.

He kept his head down in silence, not paying attention to where he was going, until-

He realized he fell.  
He brought his hand up to rub his forehead gently as he groaned in pain. Shifting his gaze slightly, he saw a figure, a woman's figure, who had fallen onto the ground.  
“Oh gosh, I'm so sorry, I wasn't paying attention to where I was walking.” He immediately stood up and began apologizing, holding his hand out for the woman to grab.  
Taking the offer, the woman grasped his hand as he helped her off the ground.

The eyes, a familiar ice blue.

“Briana?”

“Who's Briana? And hey, aren't you that kid from that band, what was it called again? Fall Out Boy or something?”

“I- um, yeah. I'm Patrick. I'm sorry for the confusion. You just look so familiar.”

The woman laughed softly. He took the opportunity to take on her features. She had shoulder length red hair, she was a ginger. She was about as pale as he was, maybe more so. She was definitely shorter than him.

“Nice to meet you, I'm Allie.” She smiled kindly.

“Allie…” the name danced around in his mind for a brief moment before he nodded, flashing a friendly smile.

“What are you doing out here in the storm?” He asked, curiosity in his voice.

“I can ask you the same thing.” She laughed softly.

Her eyes, the same eyes he used to know, “You're beautiful-” He whispered before cutting himself off.

“I'm what-?” Her head tilted, the same familiar way it had in his memory.

Realizing what he had said, he covered his mouth with his hands. His eyes growing wider by the second.

“I um, I don't even know you…” she rubbed her arm awkwardly, turning her head slightly so that her pale eyes don't meet his.

He pondered the words she spoke for a moment,  
“What if we got to know each other?”

*

It was his first date, ever. He was nervous as hell.

He took a few deep breaths, with the help of his inhaler.

He didn't know what to even do, let alone what to say.

As he lifted his hand, readying himself to knock on the door, he froze.

“Hi, Patrick.” She gave a smile, the kind of smile that made his heart flutter.

*

“What do you mean?”

“Do you want to hang out sometime Allie?”

He was infatuated already, lost deep within the pale blue orbs that was perfectly placed on her perfectly shaped face.

Maybe it was time he got over Briana. He didn't really know what had came over him, but whatever it was, maybe it was for the best.

“I um-” she began, getting cut off by the sound of a thunderclap.  
A soft gasp escaped her lips, perfectly round. He couldn't help but smile softly at her reaction.

A flash of lightning appeared in the sky, and before they realized it, she had attached herself to the blonde for protection.

A faint tint of pink began to cover her cheeks as the sudden realization of her actions dawned on her. Quickly, she removed herself from him and dusted off her skirt.

Her outfit consisted of a black pleated skirt, it was awfully short but not too short that it was revealing, a white dress shirt with a reddish pink bow tied around her neck to fall onto the shirt.

 _‘Is she still in school?’_ He thought to himself.

“I, um, I have to go home now.” She spoke suddenly, breaking the awkward silence, only to cause more awkward silence.

“I can walk you home if you like?”

It was pouring rain, she wasn't dressed for the storm. The least he could do was make sure she made it home safely.

“Would you really?”

“Yeah, of course! I'd feel ashamed of myself for letting such a pretty girl go home alone in a storm like this.”

She shook her head, disagreeing, “Thank you for the offer, but I don't know you.” He couldn't tell, but she forced a smile at him.

“But, in any case you ever want to talk again. Here's my cellphone number.” She whispered, it was quiet, but not quite so quiet as she had hoped.

He pulled out his phone from his pocket, inserting the numbers she spoke into his contacts list.

“Here's mine too.” He said. She smiled sweetly, at least it looked sweet to him.

“Thank you. Goodbye.”

For the first time in a long time, he finally felt that he could move on.  
He smiled and waved to the girl as she turned and ran the opposite direction. Sighing, he finally realized that his clothes were completely soaked.

As he slid his hands back into his drenched hoodie pockets and made his way home, the storm seemed to have subsided, though the rain still came down viciously, pelting him as he walked. The street lights had barely illuminated the sidewalks, mist engulfing the yellow orb of light, he could see where he was going enough to make sure he didn't walk into another pretty girl or cross the street when there were cars driving by, he wasn't fully prepared to face death today.

*

“Hey, dad! I'm going now.” She called, even her shouting was perfect.

Patrick smiled nervously, “Sh-shall we?” He stuttered, receiving a soft nod from the girl.

As they were about to walk down the walkway, “you, boy. Come here.” He heard, that must be her father. Taking a deep breath in, he turned around to come face to, well, chest, with a large man. “So you must be Patrick. Bri’s been tellin’ us ‘bout you.” The man took a quick look at the very short blonde, “Bring her back by 10. No later than that. No funny business, boy.”

“Y-yes, sir.”

“Dad, don't intimidate him now. Come on Patrick let's go.” Briana said, guiding Patrick away from the house.

They walked in complete silence for what felt like hours but was only five minutes.

“Hey, don't worry about him. He's just a little overprotective.” She finally spoke, “Ever since my sister-” she stopped suddenly, “no never mind.”

Patrick raised an eyebrow at the girl questioningly. “Did something happen?”

She half smiled at him, “no it's nothing. Don't worry about it okay?”

He nodded, but in his mind he grew more curious with every passing second.

*

Upon arriving back at his apartment, he was confronted by none other than, “Patrick what the hell? Where have you been?” Pete said.  
Brushing him off, Patrick made his way into the kitchen, “Hey, Trick. You doing okay?” He heard Andy say.  
“Yeah I'm fine.” He snapped. Why was he angry? Andy didn't do anything wrong, he was just worried, right?  
Wrong, at this point, whatever Patrick had done, everyone knew about it. They never leave him alone and always tease him about it. He was sick of it, but they'd always say “don't take it to heart man, we're just teasing you.”

“Man, are you really okay? You seem out of it lately.” Andy asked, genuinely worried. But Patrick didn't know that, he couldn't tell the difference between joking around and being serious.  
“It doesn't matter. Just leave me alone.” He spoke nonchalantly as he reached into a cupboard, pulling out a box of cookies.  
“Hey, ‘Trick you're stress eating. Something's up. You don't do this for no reason man. Just talk to me.” Andy said.

Fuck, he saw through him. He knew he shouldn't have grabbed those cookies. The guys know him too well.  
Exhaling agitatedly, Patrick turned his back on the ginger, “I'm fine.” He growled and made his way out of the kitchen.

He gazed out the window, it was still hazy outside. The rain didn't falter either. Each drop came down as hard as the last, pelting everything it touched. Everything was drenched, covered in water. Pete's new car seemed to have a puddle on the hood. Snickering to himself about the misfortune of Pete's brand new car, his bedroom door slammed open.

“Hello, Pete.” He spoke coldly, keeping his gaze fixated on the outside world.  
“What the fuck Patrick? First you go out and get wasted and then you come home and act pissed off with everyone?”

“Is that a problem?”

“Yes! Patrick what's your deal? What happened, huh?”

“None of your goddamn business.”

*

The glare on his glasses made it near impossible to see his eyes. He cleaned up nicer than normal, but only in her eyes, to him, he looked the same as usual.

For her, she wore a light blue dress that had ended right above her knees. She looked taller than him, she probably was taller than him, even without the extra two inches her heels had given her. She had the height advantage already.

His hair was as shaggy as it had usually been, he looked like he never used a brush before in his life with how his hair had been. He wore a suit, a tattered one at the very least, it looked too tight on him, like he was suffocating just wearing it, with a black tie that obviously hadn't been tied correctly, which made him look even more like a homeless kid than your average high schooler taking the girl on a date.

“So, where are we going, Patrick?” She spoke suddenly. He froze in his tracks. He hasn't even thought about that, he didn't even think she'd go on the date with him in the first place.  
“I- I’m not sure…” he looked away, hiding his face in embarrassment.

“Oh, well that's okay. I'm sure we can find somewhere to go- oh! How about there?” She pointed at a restaurant, it looked like your average pizza parlour, not somewhere you'd take your first date, especially if she was dressed up as nicely as she had been. He thought about it for what seemed like an hour,  
“I was thinking we could go somewhere more… I don't know… fancy?” He mumbled, reaching into his pocket, only to realize he had left his wallet at home. “Shit.” He growled to himself.

“What's wrong, Patrick? Are you okay?”

*

“Patrick? Buddy, you okay? You're spacing out.”

Gah, it was just Pete. He narrowed his eyes at his best friend, “Why the hell does it even matter to you? What I do is my business, who I talk to is my business, that girl is my-” He silenced himself quickly, hoping Pete didn't catch the last part, but he's got the ears of a bat,

“What girl? Did you find a girl?”

“I didn't say girl.”

“Sure you didn't.”

Patrick rolled his eyes, “fuck off Pete. What I do is my business.”

Truth was, he had been a little intoxicated from earlier that day.

 _Was that girl even real?_ He thought to himself as he dug out his phone from his jeans.

“Whatever, Patrick.” Pete sighed in defeat and walked out of his room, closing the door behind him.

He looked through his contacts over and over, but it didn't seem to be real. He thought for sure that he had been standing in the rain talking to a girl who was named- what was her name again?

It was all a blur to him. There was no new contacts in his phone, no new phone numbers added, nothing.

Just as he was beginning to give up hope, a text appeared on his phone.

_“Hey :) it's Allie from earlier.”_

He smiled half heartedly.

_Allie._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading and stuff :)

**Author's Note:**

> Well, this is my first story on here. I tried to make it well, as good as I could, but I hope you all like it. :)  
> I know it's short but I promise the next chapter will be longer!


End file.
